


Bottoms Up

by Udunie



Series: Tumblr prompts [25]
Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Gangbang, Humiliation, M/M, Multi, Public Humiliation, Public Sex, Urination, Verbal Humiliation, Watersports
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-07-03
Updated: 2017-07-14
Packaged: 2018-11-22 23:58:26
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 5,249
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11391093
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Udunie/pseuds/Udunie
Summary: The bartender trained his small, dark eyes on him. He didn’t need a nameplate for people to know that he was the Hog.“And what will it be for you, kid?” he asked, not like he didn’t already know why Stiles was here. Everybody knew. He could feel their eyes on him.Stiles licked his lips.“Give me a Golden Glory,” he said, throat feeling dry. Something flickered in the Hog’s eyes. Not surprise, but satisfaction.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Dun-dun-dun! 
> 
> Please heed the warnings, guys!
> 
> This was written in response to this prompt on tumblr:  
> anonymous asked:  
> I wish you would write a fic where Stiles is an absolute slut for people pissing on and in him, and wearing a plug so he can feel it inside him at all times
> 
> All my love to Emma, who never lets me down! <3

Chris wasn’t the kind of man to perve on people half his age - or at least that was what he liked to think. But life in Beacon Hills taught him some things about the world and about himself.

It had been hard. Losing Kate, however rotten she had been, then losing Victoria, then… Allison. It had been one disaster after the next, and it really wasn’t his fault that he started to fill the void in his life with the people around him.

Chris had never been a tactile person, so he stayed in the background, but still, he kept his eyes open for any trouble that might come their way. He felt a bit responsible for the ragtag pack left in Beacon Hills, and he would be damned if he lost one more person he cared about.

And that was the reason why he immediately noticed that there was something wrong with Stiles the first time he came home from college. He was… energetic and all over the place, as usual, but there was something, some manic glint in his eyes that was hard to miss if someone cared to look.

Oh, he had no illusions that under any other circumstances John would have noticed it too, but he couldn’t fault the man for not having any objectivity when his son returned after such a long time.

And, Chris thought, he was probably better prepared to deal with anything that would cause Stiles to act weird.

He didn’t make a big deal out of it, but from then on, he took care to get as much information about the boy as possible without getting caught. He did actually have a few friends at the university where Stiles was studying, so it was easy enough to get regular reports.

It seemed that nothing supernatural was going on, but still, every few months, Stiles would disappear for a night.

And that was quite enough to make the alarm bells go off in Chris head.

***

Sometimes, when times got rough and life got too hard, Stiles… needed a fix. It made him feel like a junky, his skin too tight to contain all his energy that needed an outlet, a way to let go of the pressure. A release.

He didn’t do it often. Just… right after exam season. Or when he was sitting in the library for days on end. When he was a bit too homesick for comfort, but didn’t want to worry his dad…

Okay, he probably did it more often than was healthy.

He should have… he should have stopped after the first time. He could still remember how he felt the day after; all the shame, all the  _ mess _ . If he wanted to examine things closely, it was almost like he enjoyed the mess just as much, but Stiles didn’t want to examine it. 

The jeep rattled and screeched as he pulled up at the old bar,  _ The Hog’s _ . It was a derelict place, falling apart at the corners with a vicious, rough crowd. Stiles was wearing his tightest t-shirt and a pair of old jeans he cut the legs off until there was barely more than an underwear’s length left. It made him feel cheap, but that was the goal, wasn’t it? 

A biker guy was standing out front, smoking. He looked familiar enough to cause Stiles’ belly to lurch in sick anticipation. He was big and hairy with a graying beard and a beer belly. He watched Stiles walk up to the door from under his bandanna. 

The smart thing would have been to keep out of reach of him, just side step the bulking figure, but Stiles wasn’t here to be smart.

The biker slapped his ass hard as he passed, making him jump with the shock. 

Stiles bit his lip on a whine as he opened the door, feeling the imprint of that hand turn red on his skin.

Yeah. Yeah, maybe the biker remembered him from before.

***

There was no… no lull falling over the place as he walked in. Nothing that dramatic. Nothing that obvious. And anyway, the patrons of  _ The Hog’s _ must have been used to him by now. His irregular visits weren’t as rare as they should have been.

Stiles walked up to the bar. The place was packed despite the late hour. He had the impression that the place never actually closed. There were bikers, construction workers, some people who looked to be a paycheck away from being homeless. He could see quite a few prison tattoos on muscled arms peeking out from under rolled up sleeves. 

Someone pinched his ass in the crowd, making him shudder. He didn’t see who it was. Didn’t bother to look.

The bartender, a greasy pig of a man - fat enough that he barely fit behind the counter - was watching him approach with a half-smile. Stiles squeezed in between a pair of guys in paint stained coveralls.

The bartender trained his small, dark eyes on him. He didn’t need a nameplate for people to know that he was  _ the  _ Hog.

“And what will it be for you, kid?” he asked, not like he didn’t already know why Stiles was here. Everybody knew. He could feel their eyes on him.

Stiles licked his lips.

“Give me a Golden Glory,” he said, throat feeling dry. Something flickered in the Hog’s eyes. Not surprise, but  _ satisfaction _ . 

The Golden Glory wasn’t an actual drink. Not something served for regular patrons at least. It was a signal. An invitation.

The bartender nodded and disappeared into the small stock room behind the bar. He could barely squeeze himself through the door.

Stiles’ hand was shaking a bit as he held onto the edge of the counter. Someone crowded in close behind him, smelling like smoke and grease, but he didn’t turn around, only shivering a little when he felt the man grab his hips.

“Hey handsome,” the guy said, his voice rough and familiar enough to make his face flush. 

The Hog finally reappeared, raising an eyebrow at his new suitor over Stiles’ shoulder as he put a tall glass down on the counter, it was filled to the brim with yellow liquid. Stiles couldn’t take his eyes off it.

Before he could reach for it, the Hog made a sound in his throat, stopping him in his tracks. He dropped a few ice cubes in the glass and a little, pink paper umbrella that looked completely out of place in  _ The Hog’s _ .

The man behind Stiles snorted and shuffled closer, leaning into his ear.

“You gonna chug that in one go for us, handsome?”

Stiles made a noise he wasn’t proud of, and finally picked up the glass. It was still warm, despite the ice.

His belly was churning as he lifted it up, the bitter, acerbic smell hitting his nose and making him shake.

The Hog was watching like a hawk, and he could feel the man behind him harden in his pants, pressing his erection up into his crack.

The first swallow was always the hardest. The first swallow always tasted awful and made him want to throw up and run away. But Stiles knew how to power through it. Knew how to keep it down until the high hit.

It was like a drug. It made no sense, really, but after he managed to swallow that first, big gulp of warm piss it was like his brain turned off and his body turned on, leaving only a primal, needy creature who just wanted to be used and degraded and humiliated. Reduced to nothing.

He drank the whole thing in one go, gagging a bit as he put the glass down, not sure for a second if it would stay down. Oh god. The cold traces of the ice made it even worse. The taste ate into his tongue, filled his nose. He couldn’t escape it. He didn’t even want to anymore.

The man behind him groaned and rubbed his cock against Stiles, his fingers pressing bruises into his hips.

“Shit, that was hot.”

Stiles sagged against him.

***

Chris stood in the back, feeling sweat slide down his back as he watched Stiles. 

Fuck.

Obviously, this was not at all the kind of trouble he expected to find. The kid looked like a cheap hooker with his paper thin t-shirt and his cutoffs that left little to the imagination.

Chris wasn’t new to reading rooms, and as soon as Stiles walked in he could feel the subtle shift of mood in  _ The Hog’s _ . He could practically smell the way some of the men around him got hard the second the boy appeared.

Was this what Stiles did here? Did he come here to…

He snuck a bit closer, still out of sight of the kid, but close enough to pick up on what was being said.

It took Chris an embarrassingly long minute to understand what the ‘Golden Glory’ Stiles ordered was.

And then he did, and he almost wished he didn’t.

Fuck.

Chris watched as Stiles drank it. The whole glass of it, just. Bottoms - fucking - up. He couldn’t decide if the squirming feeling in his stomach was nausea or arousal, and he couldn’t even tell which one he preferred.

He… he didn’t know what to think. What to do.

The smart - the proper - thing to would have been to step in, take Stiles, and leave. This was dangerous. And from what he guessed the boy did on these nights, it was straight up insane.

But. Stiles was an adult. Sure, he was barely legal, and for Chris he still looked like the lanky teenager he first met, but that didn’t mean he had a right to stop him from… whatever this was.

As he watched, Stiles sagged into the burly biker crowding him from behind, his eyes looked glazed over, like he was on drugs. Like he was having the best high of his life.

The biker kept palming at him, gripping the boy wherever he could reach. It made Chris unnaturally angry. And he had to realize that his anger didn’t exactly come from a paternal place.  _ He  _ wanted to do that.

The realization of that was startling. If nothing else, the fact that Stiles had just drank a full glass of fresh piss should have turned him off.

It didn’t.

***

The guy didn’t let Stiles bask in his belly churning pleasure for long. He groped at him and then he tugged, peeling him away from the bar and maneuvering his body through the crowd towards the dirty bathrooms in the back. Stiles let him. His brain was way too foggy to object, and well. He was heading there anyway. Eventually.

“Yeah, come on, handsome. After that little show out there you will have quite a busy night,” the guy said. Stiles felt like he should give him a name. Teddy. He was big and hairy anyway.

The thought made him snort, but Teddy didn’t care. He pushed Stiles through the door of the john. The smell hit him like a freight train. Stale piss and unwashed men. It was disgusting, but Stiles could feel his own cock twitch in his too-tight shorts.

He must have made a sound, because Teddy was palming at him, squeezing his dick and making him double over with the sudden burst of pleasure.

Teddy laughed.

“You like that handsome, don’t you? You will love what’s coming even more, but first let’s take care of you.”

There were three stalls on one wall, opposite of the chipped urinals. The middle one had an ‘Out of order’ sign tacked to it, and that was the one Teddy stirred him into. 

The door banged them loud enough to jar Stiles out of his stupor, but Teddy was holding him tight enough that he couldn’t turn and fall to his knees the way he wanted to.

“Oh, no, no, no… You first, handsome. Want to see it,” he growled into Stiles’ ear. He didn’t know what he was talking about. He should first… what? Then the man’s hand was right there, pushing hard on his lower belly.

Fuck.

“N-no.” He didn’t even know why he was protesting. It wasn’t like it made a difference.

“Yes,” Teddy hissed, keeping up the pressure on his bladder. “Do it, handsome, I wanna see you piss yourself like the out of control whore you are… I know you’re thirsty to get at mine, but you have to give your’s up first.”

Stiles shivered, his knees shaking. Fuck. There was still a part of him that wanted to shy away from the humiliation of that… The thought made him pause. He didn’t want that. He didn’t want to feel a single morsel of remorse about this night. Not now.

It was hard. Harder than it had any right to be. But he wanted to do it now, so he squeezed his eyes together, making his muscles relax. His cock wasn’t fully hard yet, but it was still difficult to let go.

Until the second he started pissing.

Then it was easy. So, so easy. It felt blissful, and he couldn’t help dropping his head back to Teddy’s shoulder as he felt the hot piss soak his shorts, flowing down his legs in warm rivulets.

“That’s what I’m talking about,” Teddy said, sounding turned on and breathless. As soon as the stream stopped he relaxed his hands around Stiles and let him drop to his knees, tugging on his shoulder to make him turn around.

The puddle of his own piss was cooling on the dirty white tiles, but Stiles could barely feel it. All he wanted was warmth, and he knew where to find it.

The edge of the toilet was pushing into the small of his back, and he was almost blind with need, letting Teddy grab his hair and pull him to his crotch. Stiles fumbled with his zipper for a moment, and could barely breath until it was finally undone and he had the man’s hard cock dangling in front of his face.

He probably couldn’t hide his disappointment at the erection, because Teddy chuckled, yanking on his hair.

“Well, sorry about that handsome. It looks like you have some work to do before you can suck the piss out of me.”


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Once again, all my love to the amazing and lovely Emma who kept me going with this!  
> Love you, hon! <3

As much as he was aching - and he was,  _ oh _ , he was - to fill his belly with hot, fresh piss, Stiles didn’t mind giving head. It was good. Another way of getting used; less fulfilling, but still something. And that was why he was here, after all.

Teddy didn’t pull his punches. As soon as Stiles let his lips fall open he pushed forward, forcing his cock as deep as it would go from the start. It was pretty bad. But not  _ too  _ bad. It made Stiles’ eyes tear up, and his belly heave and lurch with the need to throw up. He almost hated how much he loved it.

He was dimly aware that Teddy kept talking, but his ears were filled with the sound of his own pulse thudding away..

“...yeah! Yeah, take it, bitch… … suck that cock…”

Stiles closed his eyes. His cheeks were wet and there was saliva sliding down his chin. He had the fleeting thought that he would need to breath soon, but even with his oxygen running out at an alarming rate, he sucked. He made his throat work around the head of Teddy’s cock every time it slid deep enough.

He was so hard he couldn’t tell if he was dizzy with horniness or with looming suffocation.

Before he could panic, Teddy was groaning above him, pulling Stiles’ head to his crotch, close enough that his nose touched the man’s pubes, and then he was coming.

He couldn’t even taste it, just felt the thick splatter of it sliding down the back of his throat.

Finally - thankfully - Teddy let him go, and he sucked in huge gulps of air. 

“God, you’re good,” Teddy told him. He didn’t let Stiles catch his breath for long, pulling him in by the hair again his other hand holding his slowly deflating cock.

“You want your reward, handsome?” 

Stiles could only moan. His jaw was too numb to close, he didn’t really mind it, though it made things a bit messy.

The second the hot, salty piss hit his tongue, he could feel his eyes rolling back with bliss. He swallowed. He swallowed again and again, but some of it leaked out of his slack mouth, running down his neck and soaking his shirt, making him shiver.

Teddy slapped his face a few times with his softened cock before letting him go, leaving him kneeling in a puddle of piss with his cock hard and hurting in his paints.

But it was alright, someone else was already there to take his place.

***

Stiles lost track of time. He always did on nights like this. Once - back home - he almost got kidnapped by the fae, gaining a glimpse into their world where time didn’t exist, just a surreal haze that covered everything.

It was a bit like that.

Men came in all shapes and sizes, some rougher and more demanding than others, but all of them willing to give Stiles what he needed so desperately.

His throat felt fucked raw, and every time someone forced a cock deep into his mouth all he could concentrate on was how good their piss would be, soothing away the hurt in warm splashes. He couldn’t taste anything anymore, just come and piss. It filled his nose, made his eyes sting, matted his hair down and soaked his clothes.

And still, he wanted more.

He came at one point, with his cock untouched, keening and whining like an animal to the amusement of the men crowded around him, showering him in their urine. They seemed to take that as a sign to proceed to the next level.

Someone pulled him up, a pair of hands pushed his wet jeans down, there was a moan as they noticed the plug already stretching his ass.

He came prepared.

Stiles loved to be fucked, there was no way around it. He liked it rough even when he wasn’t at  _ The Hog’s _ . He liked to wake up with finger shaped bruises and bite marks on his neck. It made him feel real.

And even with the cloud of shame and pleasure mudding his senses, he never felt as real as when he was fucked hard and swallowing cock while dripping with piss.

The guy fucking him first was going hard and fast and it jarred him out of his cozy stupor. He blinked his eyes open, even though he couldn’t see much more than the man whose dick he was sucking. Being fucked from both ends sent his body thrumming, and his fingers were twitching for purchase on the belt of the one in front of him so he could lean into every thrust.

Teddy was long gone, and he didn’t have the mental capacity to give names to the men around him anymore. But it was all good. Their come all tasted the same, their piss was just as hot, and Stiles didn’t have to worry about anything but swallowing when the guy fucking his face finished and let go in his mouth. He couldn’t recall anything better than drinking straight from the tap.

***

Chris snuck into the bathroom, following the steady stream of people disappearing there. Despite trying to mentally prepare himself, the sight of Stiles guzzling down come and piss like it was the only thing that could satisfy him still made him lurch to a halt by the wall.

He tried to think like a hunter, but it was harder than it had any right to be. He tried to think clearly. He was here to make sure Stiles was safe, no matter what kind of idiotic, suicidal thing he got himself into.

He tried to go through his mental checklist for risky situations. Take a place where you can see both the exit and the target. Be at the ready.

Chris snuck into the corner by the urinals. He had his back covered and he could see what was happening with the boy while keeping an eye on the door and who was coming in and out. It wasn’t perfect, but thinking about what to do allowed him to pull himself out of the situation for a few blessed seconds.

But then, he was left with nothing to do except actually watch Stiles being completely ruined by these stinky, dirty men. He couldn’t stand it. Their hands left marks on him. One slapped the boy in the face when he choked on his cock. Chris almost dragged him away. Almost. But he couldn’t miss the way Stiles’ eyes were glazed over with something that shouldn’t have been ecstasy, but definitely was.

Chris - despite his resolve - had to look away, hoping that it would stop his body reacting to the sight of the boy so obviously enjoying himself. It didn’t help. Even with his eyes glued to the ceiling, he couldn’t help listening.

Stiles slurped and moaned and swallowed loudly and hungrily. Piss was splashing onto his face, his neck and dripping down to the tiles.

It was driving Chris crazy. 

He felt sick. Sick of himself, sick of the way his cock jerked in his pants whenever the men crowding the boy into the stall moved and he could see Stiles’ face.

And despite all of that, he stayed, glued into the corner, trying to be as inconspicuous as possible. Most of the patrons coming in to use Stiles’ ‘services’ didn’t pay him any mind. There were some guys who took their place by the wall like him and just watched, beer in hand, cocks hard.

Chris didn’t want to think he was just like them, but there was little difference.

As he watched someone pulled Stiles up from his knees from behind, dragging his shorts down. The boy acted like he didn’t even notice, he just went with the motion, not even lifting his head from the cock he was sucking.

The guy behind him, a large one who looked like a construction worker threw something on the floor with a muttered curse. Chris watched it bounce; it was a buttplug glinting with lube. 

Fuck.

The worker didn’t waste any time and pushed his cock right into Stiles’ - apparently - waiting hole, bottoming out with a moan. Chris had to close his eyes for a second and adjust his dick, no matter how much it made him hate himself.

Stiles whined in pleasure. There were little bubbles in the corner of his mouth. Chris didn’t know if it was come or saliva.

The construction worker plowed him hard, his meaty hands digging into Stiles’ hips, yanking him back onto his cock. He slapped the boy’s ass for good measure a few times, the print of his fingers lingering on his white skin.

It made Chris hungry. He didn’t want to think about it.

Instead, he watched.

The guy fucking Stiles’ face finished soon with a groan. Chris could see the boy’s eyes rolling back, throat working furiously as he immediately started pissing in his mouth. He must have been tired, some of it going down the wrong pipe, because he started coughing, urine bubbling out of his nose. The whole bathroom broke out laughing especially when the guy in front of him jumped back with a yelp to stop it getting all over his pants.

Stiles coughed again, grabbing the doorframe for balance and then he smiled, stupid and happy, his face dripping with piss and drool. 

Chris could feel his cock leaking precome into his underwear.

The boy was left there, hunched over, getting fucked. He looked around the bathroom, searching. Chris could feel his blood freeze, but Stiles’ eyes slid over him. Maybe he was too fucked out to recognize him. Good. He didn’t know what he would have done if the boy panicked now.

The construction worker was slowly finishing too, grunting, his movements becoming jerky and finally stopped.

Chris expected him to pull out. It seemed like the night was finally dying down somewhat.

But the man didn’t pull out. He stayed exactly where he was, and for a second Chris couldn’t understand why. Then Stiles started making desperate little sounds of pleasure, his body trembling, his mouth hanging open, and he understood. The guy was pissing into his ass.

“Shit, that was good,” he said, circling his hips and making Stiles meow like a cat in heat. “Troy! You wanna have a go?” he asked loudly. One of the guys standing just out of his eyesight drinking a beer answered him.

“Ugh, nah. I will pass, he’s always fucking nasty at this point. The little bitch looks like he rolled around in the sewer.” The other people around him murmured in agreement.

The construction worker shrugged and looked around. And that’s when Chris made a mistake. Eyecontact.

The guy glanced down at his crotch and grinned at the outline of Chris’ cock in his jeans.

“Huh, I haven’t seen you around before… Come on, newbies always get the pleasure of finishing last,” he said.

Shit. 

He had two choices. He either accepted the offer and… and did something he could never forgive himself, or he declined, in which case he might put himself and Stiles in danger, if these people figured out he wasn’t into their little game. He had enough guns on him to be mistaken for a cop.

He knew which one he had to choose. He was relatively confident that he could take out the whole bunch of these dirty drunks with one hand tied behind his back…

But his body was moving before his mouth could form the words.

With every step he took the smell of urine and sex grew stronger, the little huffy noises Stiles was making grew louder.

And his cock was getting harder.

The worker slapped the boy’s ass.

“Alright my man, you need to get your cock in him as fast as you can so the whole thing in his belly won’t come splashing out,” he said, like he was advising an intern on his first day.

Chris nodded jerkily. Half of his brain was screaming at him to stop, but the other part, the part that was darker was making his hands move, fumbling with his fly until he had his cock in his hand. 

_ It happened so fast. _ It was the most idiotic thing. People caught in accidents used to say that. He had no right to say that, to even think it, but still. Before he could blink the construction worker was stepping back and out of the way and Chris was pushing his hard, aching cock into the sloppy warmth of Stiles’ ass.

The boy moaned and the guy patted Chris on the back with a sticky palm.

“That’s how it’s done. You can leave him out the backdoor on the cardboards, he’ll have a nap and go home when he wakes up.”

Chris wanted to punch him for that. For the implication that that was how they usually treated Stiles afterwards. But he had no energy for violence, not when Stiles’ hole was hugging him so close, not when the boy’s hips were making little aborted movements as he tried to fuck himself.

He had to close his eyes for a second, overwhelmed by how good it felt to be buried so deep in Stiles. When he opened them, the construction worker was still there, holding something out for him. He had to blink to recognize it.

Oh, the plug.

“Cork him up when you’re finished,” he said, “the little bitch loves to wake up to a full belly.”

Chris took it on autopilot and then just stood there, waiting as the bathroom slowly emptied out. It must have been late. He lost track of time.

He waited until the door closed, and a second after that. He waited until Stiles started to make impatient little sounds, rocking back against him.

And that was how long his rope lasted. His grabbed Stiles by the shoulders, yanking him back. There was no way out of this now, he might as well burn up the rest of his soul.

The boy whined, his hole clenching sweetly around Chris’ cock as he started fucking into him with long, hard strokes. It was good. Something like this had no right to be this good, and still.

“Shit,” he moaned, putting a bit more force behind his hips. Stiles’ ass was making filthy wet sounds as he hammered into him, stirring up the piss and come filling him up. 

The boy seemed to love it, his head thrown back, his whole body thrumming with pleasure.

“That’s right, take it,” Chris growled out, angry. Angry at Stiles for being so stupid, but most of all, angry at himself for letting it get this far. 

His orgasm came like a sucker punch, leaving him dizzy and breathless as his balls emptied into the boy. He pulled Stiles up straight, holding his body close, uncaring of the piss making his skin clammy.

He had to hold up most of the boy’s body, but he didn’t mind. He looped one arm around his chest, his other hand splayed out over Stiles’ belly.

“Want it?” he asked, he didn’t know why. He wasn’t sure he cared anymore. Stiles whined, trying to reach behind him to pull him closer. That had to be enough for now.

Chris groaned, concentrating. It took a second or two, but then… then he was pissing. He was pissing right into Stiles, filling him up to the brim.

The boy moaned, jerking as the new warmth splashed into his belly. Chris couldn’t really feel it. Two loads of piss wasn’t really enough to distort Stiles’ stomach, so he slid his hand lower, grabbing the boy’s cock and jerking it hard and fast. 

The kid didn’t need much before he came with a shout, his body jerking hard enough that it forced the piss in his belly dripping out beside Chris’ cock.

“Yeah. Just like that…”

***

Stiles was floating. 

He had been floating for a while, only partially aware of what was happening around him. There were things that stood out... 

Piss bubbling out of his nose. Piss filling up his belly, making him feel warm and like he wasn’t in his own head anymore. Coming with a rough hand around his cock...

He loved every single second of it.

Tomorrow, tomorrow, he would remember. There would be more details. There would be crying in shame, probably. And a lot of jerking off to the memory of how it felt to be used.

But today, he was just floating.

He barely registered that things… that things weren’t going the usual way. There should have been… there should have been scratchy cardboard under him, night air to cool him off until it was time to go.

There was none of that. 

Instead there was a pair of hands. There was a blanket around his shoulders and the quiet hum of an engine.

There was elevator music, and then later there was a tub full of bubbles with a strong body holding up his own in the water.

Stiles floated, snuggling back against it.

Tomorrow. Tomorrow he would remember. 

**Author's Note:**

> Please leave a comment if you liked it!
> 
> You can find me at udunie.tumblr.com!


End file.
